


i play it off (but i'm dreaming of you)

by brightloveee



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: M/M, Rosa being awesome, alex being a hacker/codebreaker, alex being hot, alex being sleepy, alex being sweaty, alex speaking another language, basically a lot of sexy alex things, isobel having a rough moment, isobel will get better i promise, kyle being a sexy dork, liz being hyperfocused on saving max, michael being thirsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2020-12-27 04:54:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21112991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightloveee/pseuds/brightloveee
Summary: Five times Michael gets flustered by Alex, and the one time he doesn’t hold himself back





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alexmanesairstream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexmanesairstream/gifts).

> for [alexmanesairstream](https://alexmanesairstream.tumblr.com/) who asked for Michael being thirsty over Alex
> 
> Not beta'd

**1.**

Michael has just ducked into the Crashdown to pick up breakfast for the Save Max Crew when it happens.

He’s got two large black coffees, an iced americano, a triple-shot espresso, and a salted caramel mocha, one scone, one order of pancakes, two breakfast burritos and hashbrowns, and an eggwhite omelet all balanced in his two hands when he nearly drops the entire thing on the floor of the diner.

Now, it’s been a long night for Michael. Hell, it’s been a long month. It’s coming up on four weeks since they put Max in the pod after he saved Rosa, and Michael doesn’t think he’s slept more than five hours consecutively since then. He didn’t sleep at all last night. So he can hardly be blamed for what happens. It’s been a really, really long night.

It’s not even _ night _ anymore. It’s actually morning. The sun is rising. Michael knows this because the light glints off Alex’s hair when he comes through the café door, and Michael’s heart stops. Legitimately stops beating. He’s flat-lined.

He’s seen Alex in the past few weeks. Not a lot, but he’s seen him around. They didn’t talk about it, but they’re doing a thing where they’re friendly and polite, and they don’t fight, and they don’t have sex. So it’s all new territory for them. Michael has honestly had some very pressing things on his mind, such as the death of his mother, the limbo-state of his brother, the complete break-down of his sister, his brother’s girlfriend who will not leave him the fuck alone, and her sister who has adjusted remarkably well to returning from the dead. So he hasn’t had a lot of time to think about Alex. Until today.

“Hey,” Alex pants. He’s out of breath. It would appear that he’s been running. He’s got athletic shorts on, the kind that have a liner underneath that hugs his thighs tightly, and Michael thinks it’s pretty weird how that makes him feel. Thinking about Alex’s thighs. 

Beneath the shorts, at the end of Alex’s residual right leg, is a new prosthetic.

“Yeah,” Alex says, seeing Michael look at it. “Got a blade! Pretty cool, huh?” He turns to the side to give Michael a better look. Michael’s eyes immediately gravitate to Alex’s ass in his shorts. It looks good.

It’s not helping that Alex’s t-shirt, made of a kind of shiny material, clings to his chest just right, tapers down the line of his back, stretches across his shoulders. Alex’s face is flushed, his eyes are bright from exertion, his hair wind-swept. 

Alex must sense the way his gaze lingers on him because he fidgets a little.

“God, I must look like a mess! I’ve got sweat everywhere,” Alex chuckles. He swipes the back of his hand over his brow, but that apparently won’t do, so he grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it up to wipe across his forehead, exposing a length of tan skin and lean abs underneath.

Michael would need an ambulance, if he were human and could go to the hospital. Instead, he thinks he should do what he has always done when he might pass out: drink an entire bottle of acetone in one gulp and lay down. That’s what he needs to do.

“Hey, I uh – I gotta go,” he chokes out. You know, like the suave guy that he is. 

“Okay,” Alex gives him a little smile and steps to the side so Micheal can get past. “See ya around.”

Michael manages to make it out the door without dropping anything or falling over, but it’s a close call. 

**2.**

He makes it back to the lab where they’ve set up shop without any further embarrassment, and a whole lot of thinking about Alex’s booty in those shorts. 

As he deposits the coffees and bags full of breakfast, he spots Rosa curled up asleep on one of the cots they brought in. That’s good. Kyle must have gone home. That’s great. Liz is still working away, grabs the coffee out of his hand with barely a glance. That’s expected. He finds Isobel across the room, sitting on the floor, staring off into space. That’s bad.

“I think we’re so close, Michael,” Liz says before he can steel himself to approach Isobel. “I just gotta record these results.”

She goes over to the table with her laptop has he comes over to put all the food and drinks down. They’ve spent ages compiling data and running tests over the past weeks. Liz thinks she’s found a serum that will enhance their alien powers, which should give Michael and Isobel the power of healing. If they both use it together, they could bring back Max without gravely endangering themselves. Or, that’s the idea, if they can get it to work.

He pulls his triple-shot out of the tray and takes off the lid, then grabs a bottle of acetone off the counter and pours it in, swishing it around to mix it up. Liz makes a horrified face at him.

“What?” he says, grinning as she wrinkles her nose. “It’s a nail polish latte!” That earns him an amused snort. He’ll take the win.

He brings the cup and his breakfast burrito around the table to watch over her shoulder.

“_ What is happening, _ ” Liz says, flustered, as she smacks the side of her laptop. “It’s being _ so weird _.”

Michael watches her try to close some windows or restart the machine, to no avail, for a few minutes before the entire screen goes white.

A message pops up on the screen. ACCESS DENIED

“What the hell?” Liz is really steamed. She bangs on the keyboard. “This is _ my _ computer. You can’t deny my access! Do you think it’s hacked?”

Michael shrugs at her. “Want me to try to fix it?”

She looks at him for a moment. “I’m calling my computer expert.”

He rolls his eyes. Great, she’s probably going to bring Kyle back in here with his asshole face and his annoying hair and his little condescending tone he likes to use with Michael.

“Alex, hi,” is what Liz says instead. Oh fuck. Michael buries his face in his hands. “Yeah good morning to you too, I think my computer is hacked or something.” A pause. “Yes, I did try restarting it. It has this ‘Access Denied’ message on it. No, I haven’t downloaded anything funky.” Another pause. “It won’t let me do that. It won’t let me do _ anything _. Can you just come here, I need to run this data as soon as possible. Fine.”

She hangs up and puts her phone down next to the wonky laptop.

“Alex will be here in an hour,” she tells him, then digs her scone out of the take-out bag.

Fuck.

He busies himself during the next hour wafting the other breakfast burrito under Isobel’s nose, trying to get her to eat it. If there’s anyone that’s taken worse care of themselves during this whole thing than him, it’s Isobel. She’ll sometimes come alive with energy and determination, and other times she becomes despondent for days, won’t eat, won’t drink, won’t sleep. That’s the slump she’s in now, and Michael’s determined to go through it with her. So he’s on the floor next to her, yammering away telling her that iced Americanos are her favorite, doesn’t she just want a sip? when Alex shows up.

“Alex!” Liz exclaims when he walks in. “Come look at this.”

Michael leaves the iced coffee and the burrito and the hashbrowns next to Isobel, in some kind of vain hope, and stands to come watch from across the table while Liz and Alex examine the laptop.

Alex greets him with a smile, “Long time no see, Guerin.” 

He’s changed his clothes, he’s got jeans on, and a green sweater that looks so soft. He looks clean and rested, his eyes are clear and warm, the sweater hugs every curve of his biceps as he pulls his own laptop out of his bag and puts it next to Liz’s. Michael wants to come in between his arms, and wrap him in a tight hug, and put his chin on Alex’s shoulder. He can almost feel how nice and warm it would be. He could turn his head, press a kiss to the line of Alex’s jaw, his smooth cheek, the corner of his lips...

“Oh wow,” Alex says, snapping Michael out of his daze. “Yeah, you’re really fucked.” He’s got his laptop connected to Liz’s, and he’s typing away, eyes flying across the screen.

“_ What? _” Liz exclaims. “What is it?”

“Your device is compromised,” Alex says. “Is this a work computer, do you have any sensitive information or passwords saved on here?”

Michael zones out while Alex and Liz go back and forth. He watches Alex’s face, alert and serious, as he asks Liz questions and his fingers deftly type a million miles a second, faster than Michael could ever keep up with. It looks like the computer situation is bad, the way Liz is getting more and more tense.

“It looks like they installed a backdoor, to access the files stored on this machine, but they haven’t been able to hack the encrypted data they just locked you out. I should be able to disable the malware, it’s pretty sophisticated but it’s nothing I haven’t seen before. It will take me a while to attribute the source.” Never once does Alex stop typing evenly as he talks to Liz. “But I’m sure they’re trying to break into the encryption now, if they’re doing anything, so I’ll need to focus on this for a minute.”

Liz, who has been chattering a thousand questions the entire time, shuts up. She and Michael share a look, eyebrows raised, then both of them turn their eyes back on Alex.

Alex leans closer over his laptop, fingers hitting the keys with quick, sharp clacks. God, the way the screen lights up his face, highlighting his chin, his jaw, his cheekbones. The intensity of his concentration. Michael would do anything to have that attention on him. He wants Alex above him, looking at him with that determined intensity, running his hands over Michael’s body. That’s...a thought that will stick with him.

Then, as quickly as he started, Alex hits a final key and looks over at Liz.

“Fixed,” he says simply, an easy smile on his face.

“What?” Liz is astonished. “You fixed it?”

“I am going to want to do some more work, I think they installed a proxy in your email, and until I can trace that, it’s possible there are more vulnerabilities. And we need to upgrade your encryption programming, but for now the malware that was controlling your device is disabled.”

If Michael didn’t know better, he’d think there was a hint of smugness in Alex’s expression. Michael finds he doesn’t mind. He likes the glint of confidence in Alex’s eyes.

Before Alex can continue or Liz can bombard him with questions, Kyle bursts in. “_ Did you try restarting it _?”

“Did you try restarting your brain, dumbass?” Michael retorts before he can help himself.

“Real nice,” Kyle rolls his eyes.

“Hey man,” Alex greets has he packs up his computer. 

A phone starts ringing, and Alex quickly pats his back pocket and pulls out his cell phone. Before any of them can react, he starts speaking quickly in a language that Michael doesn’t recognize. His intent face, his tongue quickly and easily forming foreign words that Michael couldn’t possibly know, it’s inexplicably sexy.

“All good here, Liz,” Alex takes the phone away from his face, hitting the Mute button. “I’m going to look into it remotely,” he pats his computer bag as he packs it up, “I’ll call you when I know more.”

Just like that, he’s gone. The three of them watch him leave.

“I forgot he speaks Arabic,” Kyle says, breaking the silence.

“Wow,” Rosa says from the cot in the corner, hair mussed and eyes smudged from sleep. “He’s a genius. He’s like the smartest guy ever. Not like _ you guys _,” she says as the three of them each open their mouths to protest. “He can do cool shit, like fight bad guys. You guys just tool around in here.”

Michael can’t disagree.

Rosa yawns. “Where’s my pancakes?”

**3.**

It’s more than a week before Michael sees Alex again. Not that he’s counting. Not like he’s asking around about him either. He wouldn’t do that.

He and Liz feel like they’re closer than ever to narrowing in on a serum that will sufficiently and safely enhance their powers enough to revive Max. They’re practically old hands at these serums now.

What they’re not good at is remembering where they put things, apparently. Or, at least, Liz isn’t. She’s been patting her pockets and walking around the lab for ten minutes before Michael rolls his eyes.

“What are you looking for?”

“I can’t find my phone anywhere,” Liz huffs.

“Where did you last see it?”

“I had lunch with Alex earlier, then he drove me here, and I’ve been here ever since. I got so caught up…” It had been a very exciting day for them. He doesn’t want to say ‘breakthrough’ and get all their hopes up. But it feels like that.

“So do you think he has it?”

“Well probably, but not like I can call him and ask,” Liz says.

Michael… doesn’t actually have Alex’s phone number. He just has a beat-up old flip-phone, it’s all he can really afford, and he has exactly six numbers saved in it: Isobel, Max, Noah, Sanders, Maria, and now Liz. Now, obviously, a couple of those phone numbers aren’t exactly in use anymore, and if he called Maria she’d bite his head off. She’s been pissed ever since she found out about the whole “_aliens are real, and y’all have known but let me go on telling my mom she was insane, and aliens killed my best friend Rosa, then they brought her back, and oh yeah I screwed one too and nobody thought to mention it_” thing. Somehow Michael is the only one she’s truly pissed at. She’s talking to Liz and Rosa just fine. She might even be letting Isobel crash at her place from time to time. Michael’s definitely the only one she’s pointed a shotgun at. So yeah. He can’t call that phone number either. Long story short, he only calls Liz and Isobel, and Isobel ignores him half the time these days.

As he and Liz look at each other for a long moment, she comes to the only logical conclusion. 

“Looks like we’re just going to have to go get it.”

“_We?_” he says.

“Yeah, Rosa has the car tonight. I figured I could just say here at the lab overnight, but you can just drive me home too.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, didn’t realize I was a chauffeur now.”

“Whatever, Mikey,” Liz brushes him off. “I need to get my phone. Come on.”

She grabs her purse, which Michael thinks is pointless if she can’t remember to put her stuff in it, and heads out. Michael follows reluctantly.

He regrets it even more as they pull up to the cabin where apparently Alex lives. All the lights are out.

“I don’t know, Liz,” he says. The clock on his dashboard reads 1:17 AM. “It’s late.”

She pauses too. “Maybe we should come back in the morning.”

A light in one of the windows comes on, then a moment later, the light on the front porch.

“Oh,” Liz says. “He’s up.” She hops out of the truck.

“_Jesus,_” he mutters to himself as he follows her up the walk.

They’re heading up the stairs to the porch when the front door swings open. Bathed in the warm light from inside, Alex is standing in the doorway.

“Looking for this?” he says softly, waving Liz’s phone in the air. Liz hoorays as she bounds up to him and he laughs, holding it out to her.

Michael is…

Alex has a worn Air Force t-shirt and baggy pajama pants on. The right pant leg is tied in a neat knot beneath his knee. He’s leaning on his crutches, with a gentle smile on his face, hair fluffy, eyes sleepy. He looks so comfy and rumpled, Michael can just picture getting him under a fuzzy blanket and burying his face in the crook of Alex’s neck. He can almost feel the smoothness of Alex’s skin as Michael pulls his t-shirt off and runs his hands all over Alex’s chest, his shoulders, his back, his belly. Alex smiling and cozy, kissing him sweetly. He imagines movie nights on the couch and lazy Sunday mornings and brushing teeth together before bed and making breakfast before work.

This is exactly the sort of dreaming that gets him hurt. He pictures it, he can see it so clearly, and then he always loses it. Never gets to have it. He needs to stop.

Alex’s gaze travels over Liz’s shoulder to Michael.

“Michael,” he says softly. He tilts his head to the side, sleepy smile still lingering on his face.

Shit. Well, there goes that.

“We’ll let you go back to sleep,” Liz says. “Thank you!” She rushes forward and grabs Alex in a hug that nearly knocks him over. Michael takes an aborted step forward to grab them as they sway, Liz holding him tightly, Alex with his chin tucked over her shoulder, face pressed against her glossy hair, hands still clutching his crutches so they don’t fall.

Alex is grinning despite himself. He meets Michael’s eyes again.

Fuck. Michael is a goner.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning: fluff ahead!
> 
> This story started out being Alex as wildly sexy and Michael as unbearably hot for him. The second part turned into Alex as incredibly sweet and soft, and Michael as SO in love.
> 
> Not beta read, please excuse

**4**

Michael has a hard time focusing for a few days after seeing Alex, sleepy and soft, in front of his warm cabin. His mind keeps wandering. Suddenly he’s wondering if he should start going for morning runs to the Crashdown, wondering if he’d see Alex there. Wondering where Alex is now. What he’s wearing. What he’s thinking.

It’s not a good time to be distracted. Liz is pushing harder than ever to get the serum developed and tested. So far, the results are good, so she and Michael are watching it closely and working around the clock.

Isobel has come back to herself somewhat. She’s back to practicing her newfound telekinesis, which is getting more powerful but still pretty rough. She doesn’t have the same kind of fine motor skills to pick locks or precisely aim things, so it’s a lot of smashing and breaking. She’s tried to convince Michael to practice telepathy, and he’s interested in that but only if he can get inside his own head and get the image of sleepy Alex, sweaty Alex, intensely-gazing codebreaking-genius Alex out of there long enough for him to get his brother back.

He’s just coming back from throwing boulders around in the desert with Isobel when he hears all kinds of noises in the lab. Scraping noises, like the furniture is moving around, like boxes and crates being put down heavily.

Sure enough, he swings open the door to find a whole scene in front of him. And it’s exactly the sort of thing that would completely distract him from the important project at hand.

Alex appears to be lifting boxes for Liz and moving them around the lab. He’s wearing a tight long-sleeve shirt that ripples with the muscles underneath and those shorts with the tight liner, and Michael’s brain is short-circuiting. Liz is pouring over her notes across the room, while Rosa and Kyle chill in the corner, chatting and laughing. None of them seem to be noticing the surface-of-the-sun level hotness Alex is exuding, grunting as he picks up the big boxes, breathing heavy, jaw clenched.

“Oh good,” Liz says absently, while Michael stands frozen in the doorway. “You’re back. You can help Alex.”

“Ever pick up your cell phone, Guerin?” Alex asks as he deposits a box on top of a big stack, muscles in his arms and shoulders straining. Michael knows from experience how heavy those boxes of equipment are. 

Michael’s cell phone is back in the airstream. For the most part, it’s pointless to carry it around. Sanders won’t call him today, and Liz and Isobel have been with him, so why does he need his phone?

“I’m sorry, why can’t Mr. Muscles over there help?” He deflects, waving in Kyle’s direction.

Kyle throws his hands up from where he’s been actually honest-to-god checking his hair in the reflection of the window. “I tweaked my back at the gym, Jesus Christ!”

Alex snorts and goes back to pick up another box. He bends over, running shorts stretching across his ass. Michael’s mouth goes dry.

He definitely should step in and get the rest of the boxes himself, but this view is just too good. If he gives himself an extra moment watching Alex grit his teeth as he flexes his arms, nobody needs to know. Alex could lift him up, hold him against a wall, grind against him….

“Here,” Michael says, instead of letting that train of thought play out. He reaches out a hand so it won’t startle Alex when he gently levitates the box and moves it across the room to the rest. Alex stands there, a little dumbstruck. He’s never really seen Michael’s telekinesis in action before, and it makes Michael preen to watch his face as the boxes zoom from one side of the lab to the other.

Rosa leaps up from her seat.

“Alex since you don’t have anything to carry anymore, you can carry me to lunch!”

“Oh god,” Alex says but he’s laughing as Rosa bounds across the room and throws herself in his arms. It is not helping Michael _ at all _to watch him pick her up easily. His mind goes immediately back to the thought of Alex picking him up, carrying him, throwing him down on a bed, hoisting Michael’s legs up over his shoulders, and –

There are people here, he reminds himself. He can’t start popping boners in Liz’s lab, that’s supposed to be Max’s embarrassing thing. Fuck, he needs Max back.

He’d _ never _ talk to him about it, but at least Michael could be comfortable knowing that Max knows what it’s like to be so completely, unbearably _ hot _for someone that’s not paying you any attention.

Alex has picked Rosa up bridal-style and the two of them are giggling at each other. 

Michael forgot how giggly Alex used to be. It was one of the things that initially intrigued Michael about him, how someone could be so snarky and punky and also such a secret giggler. It was so sweet, how Alex had smiled breathlessly after their first kiss. The way he’d been in that shed the first time they had sex, wiggling and laughing under Michael, eyes sparkling. Of course, that was right before everything changed and Alex wasn’t like that anymore. After that, Alex was always serious and intense.

Michael is so happy to see that giggly person is still there, has survived his father, the war, his injury, and can still twirl around a room with his best friend as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.

If the boxes pause mid-air while he watches the two of them, nobody else seems to notice.

**5**

One of the most annoying things about having Liz around so much these past weeks is that she thinks she knows everything about his life. So she’ll just show up at his trailer sometimes and say, “Come on, we gotta go,” as if he knows what she’s talking about and doesn’t have anything else going on.

I mean, she’s not entirely wrong about him not having other plans. He only has the one friend, and she’s it. And he’s not going to the Wild Pony so much anymore. And he’s not sleeping with anyone anymore. So it’s Friday, and Liz shows up, and he honestly doesn’t have any reason not to go with her.

They end up at the Crashdown at 4pm on a Friday and he’s about to protest as they get out of the car that if he knew the plan was _ this _ boring he would’ve stayed home. Until he sees the banners and streamers all over the inside.

“CONGRATULATIONS ALEX” a big hand-painted sign says.

He cocks an eyebrow at Liz.

“You did _ not _forget that today is the day of Alex’s discharge,” she chides.

He didn’t forget, he never knew.

“Plus,” she goes on. “We’re 24 hours away from a successful serum test, so by this time tomorrow we could be on our way to revive Max! So this is also a party for that, I guess.”

Rosa, Maria, and Arturo are buzzing around the diner, throwing decorations everywhere. Around 4:30, Liz starts to shush everyone.

“He’ll be here soon! Be quiet!”

Sure enough, Kyle comes into the doorway, holds the door open with a flourish, and Alex steps inside.

Michael usually despises things like surprise parties. They’re stupid and useless. But watching as Alex’s eyes light up with wonder as all his friends gather around him, huge shocked smile painted across his face, Michael doesn’t think they’re so bad.

Alex has his Air Force dress blues on, looking all starched and pressed, adorned with medals and insignia.

Michael’s heart beats fast when he sees him. The last time Michael saw Alex in a suit was prom. This Alex is a world away from that, but he’s still so handsome. Michael watches him smile and hug people, suit stretching across his broad shoulders, narrowed at his trim waist.

He looks so happy and self-assured in his sharp blue suit. Confident and proud. Michael hates, _ loathes _, overly-confident people. But that’s not Alex. He greets everyone that came to celebrate him magnanimously, with a kind smile. Occasionally he turns to Maria or Rosa and says something that cracks them up, and he laughs with them, holding his middle.

When Michael looks at him, he doesn’t see pain and fear and sadness. He doesn’t think about his mother, or his broken hand, or his loneliness. He sees something bright and wonderful, a future full of possibility.

This is the Alex that Michael always knew he could be. Strong and confident and funny and happy.

Someone hands Michael a bottle of beer, which he takes gratefully, then another. When Liz starts toasting Alex and his service with champagne and shots, Michael secretly slides the bottle of tequila across the bar to himself when no one is looking, and pours a few for himself.

The only thing he needs to forget right now is that he doesn’t have Alex in his arms.

**+1**

The party devolves from there. Someone gets Liz, Rosa, and Maria on the dancefloor, and they drag Isobel with them despite her protests. Michael watches her go from initially stiff and tense to bopping along steadily to the tune. Maria ruffles her hair, and all at once Isobel is laughing and shaking her head and her arms and her hips.

It makes Michael grin to watch her let loose. They’ve all breathed a sigh of relief knowing that Max will be back soon. As much as their relationship has been fraught, Max has been one of the only steady things in Michael’s life. He knows how lost Isobel has been without him too.

He loses track of time watching his sister dance out the Spice Girls and Britney Spears. He’s glad this is the family that Max will be coming back to.

He looks around at the crowd that fills the Crashdown to the brim. Happy, laughing, dancing people. Arturo is dancing at the side with Liz, Kyle is twirling Rosa around and around, the diner’s line cooks are happily grooving with a beer in hand, even Sheriff Valenti is smiling from her booth, sipping on a milkshake with her deputies.

There’s just one face that’s missing.

He finds him in the kitchen, up to his elbows in soapy water, doing the dishes.

Alex looks up when Michael comes through the swinging doors

“What are you doing?” Michael asks. “This is your party.”

“I thought Mr. Ortecho deserved a night off,” Alex shrugs easily. He’s ditched the suit jacket, and he’s got the sleeves of his shirt rolled up past his elbows to make way for big rubber gloves. He makes quite the picture, dapper and tailored and covered in suds in a tiny diner kitchen.

“So do you,” Michael says. “You deserve a night to celebrate.”

“I’m about to get a lot of nights off,” Alex shrugs.

“At least let me do it, I’m in need of a good night’s work,” Michael comes over next to him, pushing up the sleeves of his flannel.

Alex flushes as Michael bumps his hip against him to scooch him down the sink to make room. There are bubbles on the tip of Alex’s nose. Michael thinks it’s potentially the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

“Come on, share the burden here, bud,” Michael jokes, tugging on the plate in Alex’s hand.

Alex keeps a hold of it, even as Michael pulls a little harder.

When Michael glances up, Alex is looking at him intently. Their eyes meet.

“Michael,” Alex says quietly.

Michael gets caught in Alex’s gaze. There’s a little wrinkle between his eyebrows. Michael brings his hand up to Alex’s face, runs his thumb across the crease to smooth it, settling his hand against Alex’s cheek. Alex leans into his touch, warm brown eyes looking deeply into Michael’s.

When Alex licks his lip, Michael can’t find any reason not to kiss him.

He leans forward, Alex’s breath ghosts across his face, their noses nudge, he closes his eyes.

It’s just as electric as the first time they kissed. Michael feels it like tiny bolts of lightning in his fingertips, down his spine, rocketing around his stomach.

Alex drops the plate back in the sink, where it _ thunk _s dully at the bottom, and a tiny tidal wave of dishwater splashes suds at them.

When they break apart, Alex is laughing.

Michael could get lost in it.

“We should talk,” Alex says. “There are things to say.” His hands, still in the bright yellow rubber gloves, have come to rest holding Michael at the small of his back.

“There are,” he wants to say all of it. He wants to tell Alex how much he loves him, has always loved him, will always love him. “I want to talk. I want to know you, too.”

Alex smiles bigger. He pulls Michael close and hugs him tight. Michael wants to memorize every inch of Alex, wants to feel the warmth of this embrace forever. For once, he’s not desperate. He knows there’s more to come. He can hold Alex, touch Alex, kiss Alex, say to Alex everything he’s thinking. There’s no more war, they’ve finally found peace.

Out in the diner, Fall Out Boy starts blasting over the speakers.

“I think,” he says against Alex’s hair. “We may have to go back to your party first.”


End file.
